


Imagine Me and You

by through_shadows_falling



Series: Supernatural Ficlets [19]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel in the Bunker, Gay Panic, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Meet Season 9 Sam and Dean, Men of Letters Bunker, Season 2 Sam and Dean, Season 9ish, Team Free Will, This is what I daydream, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 23:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3955939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/through_shadows_falling/pseuds/through_shadows_falling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 2 Sam and Dean are thrust forward in time and encounter their Season 9 counterparts. </p>
<p>How will they react to who they've become? </p>
<p>And most importantly, how will Dean react to his future self being with a certain angel of the lord?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imagine Me and You

Dean wakes up and doesn’t know where he is. He glances around blearily and notices Sam similarly curled up on the floor. He leans forward to shove him.

“Hey! Hey, Sam, get up!” 

Sam groans and rubs his eyes.

Dean feels better that at least his brother’s there with him, but where exactly are they? The place looks like some sort of 60′s-era bunker, like the type a survivalist would make to save their bacon during the fallout of the Cuban Missile Crisis. With the lack of windows and the cement walls, Dean would estimate that they’re underground. The question, of course, is still  _where_.

“What the hell?” Sam says as he sits up. “Did we go back in time or something?”

Dean huffs. “Like  _that’s_ possible. Probably some sort of witch drugged us and brought us to her lair.”

“Then where’s the witch?”

“Hell if I know.” 

“And we’re not tied up or anything. Are you hurt?”

Dean mentally assesses himself and shakes his head. “No, I feel fine. You?”

“I’m good.” Sam pushes himself to his feet and blows his hair out of his eyes. “Where do you think we are?”

“No clue.” Dean pulls out his gun, which was thankfully still tucked into its holster. He wishes he still had the Colt, but that was gone with their dad. 

Dean clenches his jaw as guilt roils in his gut. His dad sacrificed himself to keep Dean alive. He can’t mess this up. 

Dean jerks his head and Sam assumes his normal hunter stance behind Dean. The two creep silently down the empty corridors until they hear clanking coming from a room up ahead. 

Dean signals for Sam to stay behind him, and they pause just before the room when padded footsteps round the corner. 

Dean’s jaw drops. 

“Holy shit,” says the newcomer - a man who is identical to Sam, only years older. There are more wrinkles on his forehead and angles on his face, but he holds himself in the same way, and Dean would recognize his gait anywhere.  

Older Sam is holding a bowl of cereal in his hands, and his eyes are wide. 

“Holy shit,” he repeats, and Dean senses younger Sam straighten behind him.

“You’re me,” Younger Sam says, and Older Sam’s lips quirk. Dean sees Sam’s usual brightness in his expression, but there are extra shadows that weren’t there before. His eyes, too, lack luster somehow. 

Dean wonders if that has anything to do with Sam’s freaky mind powers, if they get worse as he gets older, or if it’s something else entirely.

Older Sam is still wary, but he leads Dean and Younger Sam back to the room - the kitchen - and forces them to prove they’re not demons or shape-shifters. They pass, of course, and Older Sam does the same because he knows how paranoid Dean is. 

“One more test,” Older Sam says, and he sprays a liquid on his and Younger Sam’s exposed arm. The spray can has the word ‘BORAX’ written on the side, and Dean frowns. 

“What the hell is that for?”

“You don’t want to know,” Older Sam says, nodding in satisfaction when nothing happens. They sit at the bar and Older Sam soaks in the sight of them. Younger Sam is doing much of the same, but Dean isn’t content to just sit there.

“So what year is it then? I’m guessing we time-traveled or something?”

“Yeah, this is insane. Uh, it’s 2015 actually.”

Dean whistles. “Damn! 2015! You hear that, Sammy? We’re still alive and kicking!” He pauses. “At least I assume I’m still alive?”

Older Sam nods and grins. “Oh, you’re alive. I mean, Dean is. Finally.” His humor fades slightly. “I should probably go get him.” He scrunches up his nose and shudders. “Though now’s not the best time since he and Cas...well...”

“I got a girl?” Dean says, brightening. “Sweet! She know about the life? She live here?”

“Where is here, exactly?” Younger Sam butts in, and Older Sam chooses to respond to his younger self rather than Dean. 

“This is our inheritance, kind of. From Dad’s side. Apparently his dad was part of a supernatural-fighting organization called the Men of Letters.”

“Whoa whoa, hold on a second,” Dean says, something just occurring to him. It’s weird to hear Sam bring up Dad so casually. “Should you be telling us this? Aren’t we messing up the space-time continuum or something?”

Younger Sam and Older Sam snort at the same time and exchange their trademark  _Dean is a super nerd_  look. 

“I’m being serious!” he sputters. 

“If we’re talking to each other and  _not_ exploding, I think that’s a good sign,” Younger Sam says, and Dean rolls his eyes at his brother’s eagerness. The kid is practically squirming in his seat, no doubt ready to binge on all the trivia of the future. 

“But this doesn’t make any sense. We need to get back.”

“And do what, Dean?” Younger Sam asks. 

“You heard that message from Dad’s phone. We gotta head to The Roadhouse or whatever.”

Dean glances at Older Sam and is alarmed at his melancholic expression.

“What?” he demands, but Older Sam shakes his head. 

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Mornin’ Sam - WHAT THE  _FUCK_?”

And that’s how Dean finds himself staring face to face with...himself. Older Dean is in boxers and a t-shirt, and he’s got crow’s feet around the edges of his eyes. There’s something dark to his expression, too, and something scared when his gaze flits to Older Sam’s. 

“Um, care to explain what the hell is going on?” he says, gesturing wildly to Dean and Younger Sam.

“We don’t know,” Older Sam says.

“We woke up in the hallway,” Younger Sam adds, and Older Dean’s face grows wistful. 

“Hey, look at baby you, Sammy,” he says. 

“And look at you in Dad’s jacket,” Older Sam replies, and Older Dean’s face does weird calisthenics. 

Dean knows his own expressions well, but it’s beyond strange watching them on a stranger’s face - because, like it or not, that Dean is  _not_ him. He’s still partially convinced they’re in some sort of trippy nightmare.

“Crap, Dad...” Older Dean glances at them and must read the answer to his unspoken question on their faces. His shoulders at once relax. “So he’s dead.” 

“Dad went to Hell for me.” Dean doesn’t mean to speak, but he can’t hold it in, not when his counterpart seemed almost relieved. He’s also hoping against hope that maybe the older versions of themselves know how to get him back, that they figured out a way to reverse the spell. 

Instead, Older Dean sucks in a breath, realization dawning on his face. “Oh my god, Sam. This is before Hell. This is before...before  _everything_.”

Older Sam’s mouth gapes. “Oh my god,” he echoes, and Younger Sam frowns. 

“Before what? What happens?”

But his question goes unanswered, as Older Dean, as if in a daze, sinks into a kitchen chair beside his brother. 

“I can’t even imagine it anymore. What is was like before,” he breathes and Older Sam agrees. 

“Yeah. Without all that crap in my head, wow.” He shakes his head and it’s like the weight of the world settles on his shoulders.

“Well you still got your freaky mind powers up there,” Dean says, attempting a joke that falls flat. 

Younger Sam glares. “No, seriously, what happens?” he asks again.

“Dean, I thought you were getting coffee,” comes a deep voice, and Dean’s eyes widen when another man enters the room. 

He’s close to middle-age, with brown tousled hair and blue eyes. He strides into the kitchen in a similar state of undress as Older Dean and comes to a stop. His eyes fixate on Dean and Younger Sam. The way he holds preternaturally still as he evaluates them makes Dean’s skin crawl. 

Dean turns to Younger Sam, and understanding passes between them. 

The new guy isn’t all human.

“Who the hell are you?” Dean demands, feeling for his gun. 

“Two Righteous Men,” the man says, his head cocked. “His soul is just as beautiful as yours.” He gazes at Older Dean, who rolls his eyes. 

“Stop with all that soul crap. It’s not his  _soul_ you care about. He’s hot, right?” Older Dean smirks and adds more softly, “And he’s not as messed up yet.”

“ _Dean_ ,” the man chides and Older Sam smiles. 

“Hey, Cas. You know what’s going on here?”

Dean’s thoughts come to a screaming halt. Cas was a  _guy_? His future self was doing  _A GUY_?

“Wait,  _you’re_ Cas?” Younger Sam says, reflecting what Dean wants to say but can’t since his whole body’s shut down.

“Yes,” Cas says simply.

“And  _what_ are you exactly?” Younger Sam says, breathless. 

“I’m an angel of the lord.” Cas pauses. “Kind of.”

Dean’s eyes pop out of his head. Not only is his future self  _doing a dude_  but it’s  _not even a_   _human dude_. 

“What the fuck,” he says, but that’s as far as he gets. 

“Did another angel do this?” Older Sam asks. “Yank them forward in time? Like Zachariah did to Dean that one time?”

“No angel would have that power now,” Cas says, and Dean’s going to vibrate out of his skin with how normal they’re all acting. Like Dean being a raging homo with an actual  _angel_  - which he was pretty sure didn’t exist - is totally fine. 

“So what? Some sort of spell? A portal like the one in Purgatory?” Older Dean asks, and Dean can’t take it anymore.

“What the hell! I’m not a homo! And angels? Seriously? WHAT. THE.  _FUCK_??”

They all stare at him after his outburst.

“I’m not exactly ‘homo.’ I’m bi,” Older Dean says at last in a small voice. His shoulders are hunched, but when Cas gives him a radiant smile, he sits up straighter. “And Cas is... Man, you haven’t met him yet but...he’s the best thing that’ll ever happen to you. Believe me.” 

Cas smiles so hard he shows his gums.

“I knew it,” Younger Sam says as he glances at Dean. 

Older Sam sniggers. “Yeah, it’s not that hard to guess.”

“Shut the hell up, bitch,” Older Dean says. 

“Jerk,” Younger and Older Sam reply simultaneously. 

They all grin, but Dean feels lost. How could he do that to Dad? Get with a guy? After all those times he...

“Dude, it’s okay,” Older Dean says, and Dean jumps when his older self’s hand lands on his arm. “It’s gonna suck a whole fuckton. But then it’s gonna be okay.”

Dean tracks Cas’s movement as he pulls up a chair besides Older Dean and twines their fingers together. Older Sam sees it and meets his eyes. Dean doesn’t need to say anything to get that Sam is fully behind it. He relaxes a little. 

“So. An angel, huh?” he says at last.

They talk for a while after that. Older Dean and Sam carefully navigate through Younger Sam’s questions, but provide enough answers for Dean to know that there’s a lot of shit coming their way. 

_But at least it’s not all bad_ , he reminds himself as he catches Older Dean and Cas gazing at each other with nothing but adoration in their eyes. At one point, they bow their heads together and Dean is overwhelmed by the trust he sees his future self give to Cas. 

It’s hard to think that he’d ever get to that point with someone, let alone an angel, but there he is, living proof that Dean Winchester will not only love - but be loved in return.

And when he and Sam wake up the next morning in their motel room, Dean feels an odd hope lingering in his chest, though he doesn’t remember where it came from. They’ve got hunters to meet in Nebraska, and although it seems like the calm before a major shitstorm, Dean isn’t upset.

Something good will come of this, even if he doesn’t know what. 


End file.
